Chapter 21

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After her first flight was cancelled, Kayley returned on Wednesday.

"Security got hit in the face with a handbag at the airport," she told me over the phone that night. "It was a disaster from the airline but I got to stay with my dad for a few extra days."

Kayley's first meeting with her father was a success - although it was extremely awkward for both of them. Joseph was also a die-hard Lakers fan with a love for Italian food and the owner of two German Shepherds.

"Now that I've met him, I can see why they didn't last." Kayley sighed, sounding exhausted as she got unpacking. "My mom is so high maintenance compared to him."

"He seems nice, though. And your brother?"

There was a disappointed pause. "He's... polite. His name is Ezra which is super cool. Anyway, he's in medical school and lives with his boyfriend so I only saw him once."

Though dejected, she was even more anxious to know what had progressed here during her two-week absence so I brought her up to speed. Starting with Homecoming, then Kade and Lee selling cocaine for Chase Anderson before ending with my new uncle who had turned up out of the blue. Since Kayley grilled me with questions, she was all caught up in time for the Grand Final between Marshall Grammar and the Prep on Friday.

The Grand Final - which Tyler, our star defender, was absent for.

"I left him twenty-three messages," said Jarred holding his phone up to his ear as he dialled Tyler's number once again. "Nothing."

"Call again," Kayley advised helpfully.

Reid grabbed Jarred's phone and tossed it aside. "Jefferson, you're first-string."

Will Jefferson, the bulky boy sitting on the bench, looked smug as he joined the starting lineup. There was murmuring through the crowd, everyone knowing that Tyler being missing for the most important game of the year was going to be costly. But Reid, who was ever-pragmatic, started shuffling his game plan immediately.

"Is Bree here?" I asked Kayley, craning my neck to look towards the other end of the field where the cheerleaders were lining up.

"She's talking to Coach," Kayley pointed.

I looked, just in time to see Bree storming away, throwing down her pom-poms. Dennis said something to her, which she ignored as she made her way back into the locker rooms. A couple of the cheerleaders ran after her.

"Should we be worried?" I asked Jarred, who was pulling on his goalkeeper gloves. "Tyler's never missed a game, right?"

"Yeah, it's not like him," Jarred admitted grimly.

The first siren sounded, allowing the teams to divide into their positions. Reid jogged back to the bench, unzipping his Adidas jumper and shrugging it off, revealing the iconic number 7.

The stadium roared as the captains met in the middle for the kick-off.

"Number fourteen," said Kayley, yelling over the cheering of the crowd. "If he keeps bumping Dennis, he's going to get a red card."

I looked for Dennis on the field and just as Kayley pointed out, he was being closely tagged by an opposing midfielder. Dennis was around six-foot but number fourteen was at least another head taller, baring his teeth like some sort of animal.

The game started and Reid took possession immediately, getting to work as everyone chanted his name. He was fast and meticulous in his movement up the field but his pride was his downfall as he goaded a defender for too long and was intercepted. This was usually when Tyler would masterfully cut off their ball movement but he wasn't here and his replacement, Will Jefferson, was too slow. However, Jarred was as trusty as ever and stopped them from scoring.

"Hold up their transition into attack!" Reid shouted from a couple of feet away from where Kayley and I sat in the stands. "Someone get on Anderson."

Dennis wordlessly followed his instructions and Chase Anderson smiled at the challenge, bursting into a sprint. With Dennis hot on his heels, Chase had little time to take a shot on goal. If it weren't for Dennis's clever tactic that made Chase think he was under more pressure than he really was, the ball would've sailed right into the net.

"I can't watch this," Kayley muttered miserably. "Look, that's our third turnover in two minutes."

"Is Dennis the only person who knows how to defend?" A girl sitting behind us demanded.

"Get me on the field!" Another guy shouted.

With impressive speed, one of the Prep's midfielders started bolting towards goal and the crowd held its breath as Dennis blocked his pass. However, the midfielder regained position and this time, Dennis had backup from one of our own players, blocking the second pass too. However, he wasn't able to take possession quickly enough and who else but Chase to make a quick outside kick that had the ball soaring into the goals.

For Marshall Grammar's sake, I hoped that Tyler would show up soon.

-

We lost the Grand Final by a goal.

"Cheer up," I said to Reid as he walked out of the change rooms with Dennis and Jarred. "It was a good season and we were undefeated for almost fifty games."

"I've led this team to victory for three years in a row," said Reid glumly. "Of course it would be my senior year that we run out of steam..."

I patted his back sympathetically. "To be fair, I couldn't see us winning that one."

He glared at me but it was halfhearted, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. The Apple watch tucked into the side pocket was lighting up and Reid reached over, tapping it a few times before strapping it back onto his wrist. He was frowning, pulling up the bottom of his shirt to examine the patch on his stomach. It was some kind of sensor with an attached transmitter that connected to his watch and phone. To monitor his glucose, I realised.

"Everything okay?" I asked. "Reid?"

His attention snapped back to me and he let his shirt drop back. "I'm low - which is expected after a game. 70 is just lower than normal."

"I have your glucose tablets," said Jarred immediately. He fumbled around in his backpack and produced a white bottle. "Did you take some during half-time?"

"Yeah, two at half-time. And juice."

"You're meant to take four," said Dennis, already reaching for Reid's gym bag. "15 grams of fast-acting carbs. Come on, JD, you know this. How much is left of that juice?"

Jarred grabbed it before Reid could protest. "Less than half."

"Reid, where are the jellybeans?"

Reid swatted Dennis away and waved Jarred off as he tried to step in. "Hey. Stop - fuck off, man. I know how to manage myself." He paused and let out a frustrated sigh at the outburst. "Sorry - I just... I'll be fine. Alright?"

I felt bad because the loss had evidently taken its toll on him and when Jarred and Dennis exchanged worried looks, Reid simply rolled his eyes. Before any of them could say anything else, the rest of the team filed out. A couple of the boys shook hands and patted each other on the backs but most sulked off in small groups. There were a couple of sophomores lugging a huge Go Titans banner off the field. It was 11 PM and the stadium was ready to be cleaned up early tomorrow morning.

"Oh, well." Kayley tried to sound upbeat. "Pure bad luck. You all played a great game."

"Oh, man," said Jarred sadly. "Anderson kept throwing me off."

"They've been planning this upset for months." Reid downed the rest of his orange juice before throwing away the bottle. "We did what we could without a defender. They were the better, more disciplined team tonight."

I glanced at Dennis, who had spent the night playing two roles - his own and Tyler's. I could tell that he was exhausted, glancing at Reid briefly but keeping his mouth shut.

But Kayley was outraged. "Dennis played on three opponents at a time!"

"It's okay," he assured her. "I would rather have him blame me than himself."

Reid looked like he wanted to retaliate but shook it off, walking ahead of us and out of the stadium. Once outside, I spotted him milling around the car park, watching his own breath mist over the night air. With Christmas only days away, Miami had hit its coldest point of the year.

"You don't really blame Dennis, do you?" I caught up to Reid as our friends hung back to wait for Jarred to tie his shoelaces. "He did everything he could tonight."

Reid squared his shoulders. "I know. We had a disagreement before the game."

"Surely it didn't cost you the championship."

"It was about you." He dragged a hand through his sweaty hair, knuckles bruised and bleeding, huffing out a long sigh. "It was my fault - it usually is. But I can't help that you and him weren't exactly the fit I had in mind."

My jaw dropped in amazement. "Me? And Dennis?"

Reid was avoiding my eyes, finding an excuse to search for his car keys in the midst of all the soccer gear he had in his gym bag. I had half a mind to march up to him and force some answers out of him but I had a feeling that he wouldn't take it well.

"Did he tell you that?" I asked finally. "Wait - is this about Homecoming?"

Reid found his keys and a Ziploc bag of jellybeans, producing them both with a flourish. "What else would it be about?"

Was he - jealous? The thought of it made my head spin.

"Reid-"

"Forget it." He shook his head and gave me an exasperated look, zipping up his spray jacket. "It was stupid and no, it didn't cost us a championship. Just forget it. Please."

He was obviously in a bad mood after losing the most important game of the season. I was more confused than anything else but just let him walk ahead. He didn't look back and had almost made it to his car before Kayley spoke, her voice carrying in the emptying parking lot.

"Oh my God! Is that Tyler?"

She was right.

From behind the wheel of a red Jeep that just pulled up, Tyler sat with Bree on the passenger side. He parked the car haphazardly next to the curb and got out, without bothering to turn off the engine. Catching Reid's deadly glare, Tyler raised his hands in surrender.

"Better late than never, right?"

"I don't have time for this." Reid decided, pushing past him. "Kypriano, get out of my face before I reshape it for you. Goodnight."

"Reid – wait!" Tyler grabbed him as he passed and on reflex, Reid shoved him back a step. They stared each other down for a moment before Tyler sighed. "Dude, come on."

When Reid didn't reply, Tyler dug his hand into his pocket and pulled something out for the rest of us to see. They were seven slips of paper, each with the red Emirates logo on it.

"Plane tickets," said Tyler breathlessly. "Let's go to New York."


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